The Catalyst
by kusari-chan
Summary: Every day for the past five years has been a struggle for Hotaru Tomoe as she tries to keep the destructive beast inside of her within its cage. However, the bars which hold it have become brittle and now she knows it's just a matter of time before it breaks out—unless she finds help first.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** The characters of Sailor Moon and Dragon Ball Z are not mine, nor will they ever will be.

**Author's Note: **I want to first apologize to all of the readers of "Ripple Effect". Due to extenuating circumstances involving a certain life even that I mentioned in that story, I essentially lost the drive to continue writing it. As of now it is on indefinite hiatus, and after trying to write more of it over the last few months, I decided to move on with a story that was separate and without influence over someone that I lost.

This story is much darker than Ripple Effect, and is entirely AU on the side of Sailor Moon. Additionally, this whole story will be told in first person instead of my more preferred third person format. I'm not sure how often updates will happen as my schedules are hectic as usual, but right now this story has my full interest to the point I can't wait to write more of it every day.

Thank you for your understanding and support!

**The Catalyst  
****Chapter One**

As I sat in the front passenger seat of my mother's modest four-door sedan, I stared miserably out the window beside me and watched as the rain made numerous rivulets against the other side of the glass. West City's evening rush hour was well underway, making the traffic erratic and causing the streets to become clogged to the point which kept commuters at a standstill. Because of the darkened sky of the passing storm and twilight fast approaching, most of the vehicles had their headlights on to improve visibility as they attempted to reach their destinations in the sluggish traffic. The rain, as it had done most of the day, continued to pelt the earth and everything on it in an almost unmerciful fashion.

Mom had not uttered a single word since we departed the doctor's office, and knowing that her silence was due to the fact that she was beyond frustrated and angry had made me feel uncomfortable and tense. If it had not been for the occasional rumbles of thunder and the sounds of the windshield wipers gliding back and forth over the glass in front of us, I was certain that I would have found a way to awkwardly break the quietness between us much earlier. Still, I was determined to endure the discomfort of the wordless trip home than engage in conversation which would eventually open the door to an argument that _had _to take place.

I was cruel for having let Mom entertain her delusion that I could be "cured" for so very long. I guess I had hoped that she would come around on her own, especially considering that every medical professional that we had seen told her that what I was afflicted with was not something that the study of medicine could remedy. Yet, no matter how many times Mom had been disappointed by the conclusions of the numerous specialists and doctors we had seen, she remained desperately hopeful that we had just not found the right person to treat me yet. I honestly didn't know if Mom truly believed that modern medicine could help me or if she just didn't want to accept the other alternatives that were available, but in any case, she wasn't about to make the hard choices that I needed her to make.

Being seventeen and with Mom having primary custody of me, she had all of the power in regards to my welfare and treatment. If I really wanted to, I probably could have sought methods of which I could have ascertained my rights much earlier than the legally adult age of eighteen, but I knew that would hurt Mom far more than I already had. As much as I believed that she was making all of the wrong choices in this situation, I still loved her more than anything or anyone else in the world. And, regardless of the happiness that I had deprived her of and how much I had taken away from her over the past five years, she still had the capacity to love me as well.

"We'll find another doctor," Mom said suddenly, her voice very quiet and strangely calm. The way that she spoke, with her each word even with the other, unnerved me more than the silence did before it. _This _is how Mom acted when she was far past the point of being upset, withdrawing into herself and turning on autopilot until she was able to recuperate her mental state—something that I noticed was becoming much more unstable as time went on. The volatility of her psyche was of no doubt my fault; I was literally driving my mother to the brink of a mental breakdown, and that is of no exaggeration.

I did not want to have this conversation in the car, but I was afraid that I would lose my nerve if I waited any longer. I could not let my mother drown herself in false hopes any longer, and if she was not going to listen to the countless many medical professionals who had already stressed to her that they _could not help me_, perhaps she would listen to me.

In my cowardice, I continued to stare out of the window as I spoke with a quiet and unsteady voice, "I don't need another _doctor_."

If I had thought the atmosphere within the car was uncomfortable before, it had increased by a hundred fold after the words had left my mouth. I could hear Mom's fingers tighten their grasp upon the steering wheel, and I was certain she was wearing a look that teetered on the borderline of disappointment and fury. Without a shadow of a doubt I knew Mom understood the inclination of what I had just said, and I was certain she probably felt that I had betrayed her. My violet eyes shut tightly as my heart constricted painfully within my chest, knowing well that I had hurt my mother yet again even though I was convinced that this was for her own good. I refused to let her continue putting her hopes into some misguided belief that I could eventually be fixed with the tools of modern medicine. This was just unhealthy—for the _both _of us.

"Mom," I began with my tone sad but resolved, "I'm going to kill someone eventually. Even right now, I'm doing all I can to control it."

"You've controlled it for five years already, Hotaru!" Mom nearly shouted in exasperation, the despair in her voice enough to make my eyes sting with the threat of tears and causing the dagger within my heart to dig a little bit more deeply. "Can't you keep it in check for a little while longer until I can find someone who can help you?!"

Mom just didn't understand, but how could I possibly expect her to? Yes, she had seen me struggle almost every day as I mentally battled the raging and blood-lusting beast inside of me, but I knew it had always been difficult for her to wrap her mind around it. She had seen the moments that I had faltered in keeping it bound, the dark energy inside of me slipping out and striking whatever unfortunate object was in its path. Often, it was her that was cleaning up after whatever mess I had made from the latest lapse in control, but she had treated cleaning up those lapses no differently than cleaning up after what disarray a young child would create after a tantrum. Mom knew that the beast—that my curse—existed, but she always chose to ignore it.

"I don't want to hurt anyone again," I admitted sadly. "Do you remember when I was thirteen, and those girls…?"

I knew I didn't need to finish my sentence; I didn't even think that I _could_. Memories of that time flooded into me, recalling that one autumn afternoon that I had been invited to hang out with the group of popular girls after school. Had I bothered to take heed of the signs, maybe the whole incident could have been avoided entirely; after all, the group had been notorious for picking on girls that they perceived as unpopular and weak, and even I had heard the rumors of the things they had gotten away with because their parents were some rich big shots that could get their children out of any bad situation. The group had done well in buttering up a thirteen year old friendless girl that wanted nothing more than to fit in—to be_ normal_—and making her believe that she was finally going to be accepted amongst her peers.

Unfortunately, they had heard the gossip about me as well, and they decided to theme their hazing of me based upon that. I still can remember their chanting as they threw the gasoline on me, saying, "_Hotaru Tomoe is a witch—burn, burn, burn!" _It seemed like an eternity as I stood there, damp with gasoline and its smell burning my sinuses, but it was probably only actually for a couple minutes or so. I could clearly remember the shock on their faces as one of the girls—the most popular and prettiest one of them all—produced a lighter, flicking the switch until it produced a flame. Looking back, I knew that most of the group had believed that their bullying would go no further than me being drenched with gasoline and being made fun of; actually _burning _me was likely never in the plan before that very moment.

I don't remember much of anything after that. When I regained consciousness, I was in the hospital suffering burns only to my forearms—scars that remained visible to this day. Mom didn't want to tell me what had happened to the girls that had bullied me, but I managed to find out through word of mouth and through various social media posts from my school's student body. The girls apparently suffered critical injuries of unknown origin that landed them all in intensive care, and some of them took weeks to wake up from a coma from which there was no apparent cause. They all eventually recovered, but Mom knew just as well as I did what it was that happened to those girls; they had tried to hurt me, and the dark powers that dwelled within me decided to hurt them back.

I hadn't been back to a public school since.

"They were _bullying _you," Mom replied tersely. "As far as I'm concerned, they deserved it. Besides, that was four years ago and you haven't hurt anyone since. You're doing _fine_, sweetie."

How difficult was Mom going to make this? What dark truths would I have to reveal to her in order to make her understand that I was no different than a time bomb just waiting to go off? Sighing, I reached up to tuck a few of shoulder length strands of black hair behind my ear. "I haven't been able to hurt anyone because I hardly leave the apartment anymore, except for when I'm going to the doctor's office for _another _pointless visit. Besides, I've busted plenty of things around the apartment that should make it obvious by now that my control is only hanging by a thread.

"Mom," I continued with resolve in my voice, "you know, I could probably level the apartment building if I became just a little _too _distraught—or a little too unstable. If I became angry at you and hurt you on accident, I would _never _forgive myself. The fact that I'm hurting you now, and the fact that I've hurt you so many times throughout the past five years, is nearly _unbearable. _I _need _to do this differently. Let's just do what every other doctor has suggested and _consult a scientist_ before I do something irreparable. I don't want to be a murderer, and I don't want to turn into the kind of monster that these…_powers _want me to be."

Mom became silent again, and I knew she was retreating back into that bubble she had been in only moments earlier. I supposed that this was a good sign; she wasn't flat out disregarding what I had just told her and suggested, and I wasn't really expecting an immediate turn around on a stance that she had held firm for the last few years. Even more than she hated the dark powers that had dwelled within my body since I was twelve years old, she hated scientists and their potential to abuse their science even more. I would like to argue that her loathing was unfounded, but from my experience with them in the past, I knew that Mom had her reasons for feeling the way she did.

Dad had been a scientist, and while he never admitted it, we were both certain that he had been the cause for these powers of mine to suddenly appear. Mom and Dad separated when I was too young to remember them even being together, and it had been after a visitation with my father at the age of twelve that I had suddenly become able to destroy objects and structures by my will or completely against it. I was at the age that I should have been able to remember my visit with my father, but for some reason I had absolutely no memory from the time I left Mom's apartment until several days after I had returned. Before anyone could accuse my father of using his questionable scientific practices on his young daughter, he had disappeared and not been seen since.

It seemed perfectly logical to me that, if science had somehow bestowed these terrible powers upon me, that it would be by science that they could be taken away. Mom, however, was more frightened that I would completely lose my humanity if I were to willfully venture down that road. There was far too much that could be taken advantage of, she said. She fretted that I could be completely removed from her custody and become a ward of the government, at which point I could be used as a tool—as a weapon—for them to do with whatever they saw fit. Furthermore, if my powers were something that could never be controlled, Mom feared that I would be killed out of fear for what I could potentially do. Both outcomes were possible, but she refused to accept the countless other and more positive conclusions if we actually found someone who could really help.

Eventually, Mom drove the car into the parking lot just beside our apartment building and parked the car in her usual spot. She turned the key to shut the engine off, the windshield wipers halting and the displays in front of her becoming dark. She removed the key from the ignition and, for a moment, she examined the key in her hand and I could see within her eyes the war of thoughts that were battling within her mind. I felt hopeful; she was finally and truly considering turning to a scientist that could figure out what my power was and the source of it. She _had _to know that my words had merit, and that going from doctor to doctor only to get the same answer each time—that they could not help me and could not understand what was going on with me—was fruitless and far too costly. Going to a scientist made _sense_.

However, as Mom's head began to slowly shake back and forth I could feel my heart breaking into a thousand little pieces and my breath hitch in the depths of my throat. She turned to me, her eyes narrowed and cold, and closed her fingers over the keys that resided within her hands.

"No," she told me firmly, "no, Hotaru. This is a big city, and this world is bigger yet. There _has _to be a doctor out there who might be able to figure something out that no one else has. Just give this time, honey. _We _don't need so-called 'men of science' to mess around with your body any more than it already has been."

I pressed my lips tightly together, the frustration and anger within me boiling up towards a point that I knew was dangerous. At that moment, I could not remind myself that Mom was just thinking of the best for me and trying to keep me safe. The only thing that was going through my mind was how _done _I was with these stupid doctors' visits and their stupid tests that amounted to absolutely _nothing_. I just felt that Mom was being terribly selfish and ignorant by her own choice, that she didn't give a damn about how I suffered and was only concerned about what pain she _might _have to endure if someone took me away from her.

My control fragmented ever so slightly, allowing just enough energy to slip out and strike towards a target of its own choice. There was a street light that stood not far from where the car was parked which illuminated a large portion of the lot, and as my power eventually reached it, the light buzzed soundly for several moments before the light began flickering. Soon after, it exploded in a stream of sparks and glass that joined the rain in its descent towards the ground below, causing darkness to fall over us.

X

"_The Cell Games"_

I had typed the phrase into the search engine and hit enter, and within a fraction of a second my monitor was filled with hundreds of thousands of results about one of the most famous events in Earth's recent history. Pretty much everyone not living in a cave knew the story of The Cell Games; some strange creature named Cell who had been wreaking havoc throughout the world and killing massive amounts of people had decided to use the template of the World's Martial Arts Tournament and challenge only the best fighters in a battle to save the planet from destruction. The challenge was met by many, and as the official story went, Mr. Satan defeated Cell and became the World Champion.

Only by chance had I become interested in the topic of The Cell Games, for even though it was a significant event for our planet, it _had _occurred almost eighteen years ago and was now dated news. A few months ago, I had spent an eventless morning watching television when a documentary on the Games came on with some original footage from the fights. For the most part, the documentary was mostly playing homage to Mr. Satan and his "heroics", but there were several clips of the other fighters that had also come to fight Cell—fighters that had been dismissed by historians and Mr. Satan himself as nothing more than clever tricksters. The mysterious group of men and one child that were present at the Games were frequently seen flying about in the sky like birds without wings, and they were even shooting _energy _from their hands as they used it as a weapon against Cell.

I watched the documentary intently from then on, and after it concluded, I escaped to my bedroom to do more research on the Games myself; more specifically, I was researching the "group of tricksters" whose relevance had long been dismissed by the general public. I found streaming websites with longer and unedited footage of the fight, watching as a man with golden hair battled with Cell in a way that seemed impossible and against all logic. Their speed was too fast for the camera to keep up with, their movements appearing little different than a blur at times with the camera view often pointed at an empty place that the two fighters had been only a brief second before. I could definitely see how the typical person would have had a difficult time believing that this was nothing more than an embellishment of the truth—that it was some sort of trickery.

I _wasn't _the typical person, and I knew that the things that Cell and the golden-haired man did were within the realm of possibility. While I wasn't able to fly—or even sure that I _could_—I did know that energy could be used as a weapon. These people seemed to have a control over their powers that I could only dream of, and they seemed perfectly comfortable with using it at their will. I saw this mysterious group of people as an answer that I had been desperately searching for, and it filled me with a hope that I hadn't felt in years. _This_ was the lead that I had been trying to find, and it had been right in front of me for almost the entire time.

Filled with resolve, I opened a drawer on my computer desk and pulled out the notebook that I had been writing notes in about the Cell Games for the past few months. I decided that today I was going to go a step further than just jotting down notes about an event that I had studied for hours upon hours; I was going to track these people down and ask them the questions that were burning on my mind. How was it that they were able to do these extraordinary things so simply? What was this energy had been a constant and growing pressure inside of me that frequently whispered into my mind its pleas for release? Could _I _one day be able to learn how to control it as they did, or did they maybe knew of a way that I could get rid of it once and for all?

I flipped open my notebook to the pages that had what information I had already gathered on the mysterious fighters. Some had already been identified due to their past affiliations with the World Martial Arts Tournament, but since their significance in the Games was believed to be slight if nonexistent, no one really cared to seek them out to get a detailed account of their version of events; the otherworldly-looking man with green skin was believed to be Piccolo, the man with scars and black hair was thought to be Yamcha, the three-eyed man with no hair was rumored to be Tien, and the small monkish man was widely surmised to be Krillin. All of these men had taken part in Tournaments before, and all of them usually got very high placements at the end. They were already established fighters that did not need trickery to prove anything.

I turned another page that was dedicated to the golden-haired man and the child, who had remained largely unidentified over the years. After having invested so much time in hunting down information on them, I had come to a plausible identification of the golden-haired man that had performed all of the feats that I had been interested in; Goku Son. While the hair color and eye color were drastically off—Goku's hair and eye color were black, while the golden-haired man was obviously golden-haired with turquoise eyes—the _gi_ that the man wore matched the one that Goku traditionally wore and, furthermore, their apparent ages were close if not exactly the same. I could only guess that the boy was his son or some other relation to him, but I just wasn't sure.

And then, there was the mystery of the frightening-looking man with spiked black hair and a young man with lavender hair. If the Cell Games had occurred today, it would have been no stretch to believe that the lavender-haired man was Trunks Briefs, the incredibly rich heir of Capsule Corporation and its future CEO. The likeness between the lavender-haired man and Trunks Briefs were uncanny; they both had the same hair color, the same exact face, and the same piercing blue eyes. However, the Cell Games had taken place eighteen years ago, and as Trunks Briefs had only been an infant at the time, that pretty much ruled him out.

I stumbled across the identity of the frightening-looking man only accidentally as I researched Trunks Briefs and Capsule Corporation. There were only a few photos of the man with the spiked black hair, but it was enough to confirm that he was the husband of Capsule Corporation's current owner and Trunks Briefs' mother, Bulma Briefs. That more than likely made the man Trunks's father, but for some reason, there was absolutely no public record of the man or even a wedding certificate indicating of who he was. It was like he was there but didn't officially exist, which only served to heighten my interest of him.

I had names and I had places, but what should I do with them? I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms over my chest, staring down at the pages of my notebook as I fell into deep thought. A simple phone call would probably be the most logical thing to do, but there was a slight problem with that; my cellphone plan was combined with my mother's and she would likely start asking questions if the phone statements suddenly started showing me making a bunch of different phone calls. I didn't have any friends—no one that I talked to aside from my mother—so my betrayal would likely be quickly uncovered.

The second option was to pay them a personal visit, something that was easier to pull off during the day while Mom was at work and leaving her none-the-wiser about what I was doing. Unfortunately, I was an incredibly introverted person and the thought of dropping by someone's personal residence and asking a lot of personal questions made me shrink back in my seat. I would probably stumble over my words as I tried to find them, making a terrible fool of myself and likely not getting the answers that I sought because of it. No, just showing up at someone's house out of the blue was definitely not an option; the possibilities were just too mortifying to think about anymore.

An idea suddenly occurred to me, and I reached forward to turn the pages of my notebook to the information that I scribbled down on Trunks Briefs. He was taking classes at West City University, a campus that was located just a few miles away from my apartment building. His father was the one certain connection to the Cell Games that was within reasonable public transportation distance, and maybe if I talked to Trunks himself, he could help me out by telling me what he knows or I could otherwise convince him to talk to his father for me. Yes, I would be forced into a social situation that I knew I wasn't comfortable with and it would likely be a recklessly stupid move on my part, but I really didn't have much of a choice. This was something that had to be done in person so Mom couldn't find out about it; if she wanted to live in her oblivious little bubble, then so be it. _I _needed to do something different.

There was also an issue with just going down to West City University and finding Trunks Briefs; the campus was _huge_, and it was more than likely that I wouldn't even catch a glimpse of him. How many students took classes there? A lot. How many buildings were there? Too many. However, being that Trunks was likely taking business management courses as he was poised to take over Capsule Corporation when he graduated from college, it wouldn't be difficult to narrow down which buildings he probably took classes in. Unfortunately, college schedules varied and there were multiple different class times for a single course several times a _week_, which made the possibility that I would track down Trunks Briefs on the West City University campus diminish greatly.

Still, if I was going to do anything about the downward spiral my life was heading towards, this was it. I didn't know how much time I had left before my control would completely combust, but I could feel that it was drawing ever closer.

X

I felt like a stalker.

I sipped at my thermos filled with coffee, trying to look as inconspicuous as I could while "Day Three of Keeping an Eye Out for Trunks Briefs" was well underway. Just as the previous two days, I had occupied a bench in front of a fountain that was located next to the main entrance of the Business and Economics building of West City University, studying each face that I saw. I had tried to appear as a student that was merely hanging out on campus, with my backpack resting on the vacant spot of the bench beside me with a pile of books resting on top of it. In-between classes I would resume whatever book I had left off in, trying to pass the time as I waited for another swarm of students to arrive or leave. I wore attire that was typical of people my age in the early stages of fall; a dark lavender jacket that was zipped up to the base of my neck and a pair of my favorite blue jeans that were naturally faded from too many washes.

So far, this whole scheme of mine seemed more hopeless than the doctor's visits, and I was beginning to question the idea completely. If I were any bolder, perhaps I could have asked if any of the students had seen Trunks or knew of his schedule, but that would have probably made me feel even more like a stalker than I already did. The bench was comfortable for a shy person like I was, staring at the crowds from a safe distance as I tried to avoid attracting attention to myself. Besides, as long as I was keeping myself decently far away from every living soul here, I wouldn't have to worry so much about any lapses in control thanks to my current state of nervousness. It would be immensely bad if I lost my control here.

It was almost ten-thirty in the morning when I caught a glimpse of lavender, and the sight of it was so sudden and unexpected that I had to do a double-take to make certain that it wasn't a figment of my imagination. It wasn't. He was leaving the building with a rather large group of students, wearing a moody look on his face as he walked at a pace that was much faster than every other student around him. He wove through the crowd fluidly, the features of his face twisting in annoyance whenever his body came into contact with someone else's, but he continued on without a word. He was dressed stylishly but comfortably, his backpack thrown over his shoulder as he held on to the strap of it with one hand.

I was extremely excited and terribly anxious at the same time, shoving my books into my backpack hurriedly before grabbing it and standing up from the bench. This was it! After the past few days of looking for this young man, I had finally found him! I was finally going to be a step closer to finding a solution to the frightening power within me, and the possibility of being a normal person once more filled me with a happiness that I had never felt before. My regrets for going behind my mother's back were forgotten, and I now sincerely believed that I had done the right thing.

I turned my body towards his direction, but I found that my body refused to move even a single step from where I was. I bit my bottom lip, my wide-eyed gaze locked on to his hurried form as my apprehension froze me in the very spot where I stood. My brain screamed at me, _"He's here, stupid! Just __**go!**__" _as my body remained mute to its every beckoning. Each breath came through my nose uneven and hard, and I could feel my heart pounding against my ribcage as I stood there and did absolutely nothing.

He walked by me without sparing a glance while I just continued to stare, and I merely watched as he eventually left the campus grounds and disappeared from my sight.

When I eventually broke out of my daze, I felt beyond angry with myself. I spat out curses and swears in frustration, stalking towards the exit of the campus and heading back towards the direction of my apartment. Is _this _what I came here to do—just waste my time and gawk at the man that I so desperately wanted to speak with? Well, I certainly was doing a _fine _job so far.

I needed to settle down as I felt my power began pulling against its manacles, sensing a weakness in my mental stability as I burned with fury at myself. I was still in public and there were people all around me, and no matter how upset I was I just _couldn't _lose my grip because of one missed opportunity—even if that opportunity could have been the first and the last I would ever get. I tried to remind myself that this was progress, that now I knew I was in the right place at the right time, and I only had to repeat it the following week.

The passage of one week to the next dragged by terribly slow, and after working up the nerve to return to the West City University campus and attempt to meet with Trunks Briefs again, I returned. Instead of arriving at the campus a little after eight in the morning as I usually had, I opted to come around nine-thirty, keeping in mind that classes sometimes let out a little early and I most definitely didn't want to let him pass by me again. This time I didn't bring my books with me as I probably wouldn't have had the concentration to read them anyway; I was trying to soothe my jumpy nerves, trying to coax myself into doing something more than nothing when I saw him again. Today was warmer than the last, but I still wore a long-sleeved black shirt to keep the scars on my forearms concealed from view and a dark washed knee-length denim skirt. My backpack rested on top of my thighs as I sat, and I patted my hands against its fabric in anxiety.

_Keep calm_, I kept telling myself. All I was going to do was ask some relatively harmless questions, and if he couldn't answer them, I would beg him to forward those questions along to his father. I hoped that he wouldn't consider my requests rude or too much to comply with, but if he did, I would have to do my damnedest to convince him that I was someone that desperately needed his help.

It was around ten-fifteen this time when students began departing from the Business and Economics building, and I immediately stood from my bench, keeping my backpack grasped within my trembling hands in front of me. _I was not going to be a coward_. I was going to be everything that I wasn't; strong, bold, and determined to find answers. He was not just going to help me because I asked him to, but I showed the resolve enough to deserve it. I had been fighting the demons inside of me for far too long to keep up this weary battle for much longer, and he would help me be done with it—he _would_.

His lavender hair once again stood out amongst the crowd, and his attitude appeared no different than it was last week. This time his hands were shoved into the pockets of his pants and his eyes were narrowed, focused before him and not even somewhat glancing at anyone else around him. He was more hurried this time, wearing a look on his face that seemed much more agitated than the week before. I noticed that there were a few students that were bold enough to say something to him, but he ignored them completely, seemingly disinterested with everything and everyone around him.

It was then that I recognized that look—that _attitude_—and became uncertain with myself again; that was a look of someone who hated the world and everyone in it.

I don't know how someone who literally had the world at his fingertips from the day he was born could possibly abhor it, but he definitely did. He couldn't stand this place or the students that were obviously just trying to be friendly with him, and all he wanted to do was _get the hell out of there._ That's why he walked so fast, why he shut himself down and paid no mind to anyone else. It was sort of the opposite situation that I found myself in; the world wanted him and he wanted to get away from it, and the powers inside of me wanted out into the world but I was doing all I could to stop it.

As he walked down the walkway in front of me, I forced my body to move this time, pressing my feet against the concrete and starkly walking towards him. My breath became short as I quickly ran to catch up with Trunks, his taller build and longer limbs allowing him cross distances much more quickly than my petite frame. I wasn't used to any sort of exercise and I honestly couldn't remember the last time I had done anything more than a brisk walk, so my body just wasn't use to maintaining such a speed for any length of time. Trunks, meanwhile, did not seem affected at all by the pace that he was currently moving at.

"_Briefs_!" I called out to him in a half-shout, my voice already sounding winded as I was already tired of chasing after the young man. "Trunks Briefs!"

Trunks's steps only slowed somewhat, his head slightly turning so that he could stare at me out of the corner of his eye. I could see that his lavender brows were furrowed over his piercing blue eyes as his lips pressed together tightly, obviously seeming more annoyed with my presence. He stood at least a head above me, and I could see now that I was so close to him how broad his shoulders were and how muscularly thick his neck was. The muscles of his arms made them as thick as my thighs—no, perhaps even a bit larger than that—but he didn't appear overly bulky. His build seemed to be like a long distance runner that dabbled in body building, and it made him all the more intimidating than just his stare alone.

After regarding me coldly for a few moments, Trunks snorted and turned his head away from me, resuming his hasty steps. _What in the world? _I shook my head in disbelief at the rudeness of his actions. Was this how all rich people acted when the "little people" dared to approach them? Well, I didn't give a damn about what chip he had on his shoulder or why he seemed to be so disgusted by the presence of others around him. I was sure that I had plenty more reasons than he did to hate the world, and for someone that had been blessed with so much, I could find no justification for anyone to act this way aside from being a spoiled brat that had never been disciplined in his life.

I ran up to him, grabbing on to the sleeve of his shirt and giving it a hard _yank_. In my mind, a very different result was supposed to happen from my actions; I was going to make him stop in his tracks, getting his attention so that he would at least acknowledge for more than a second. However, he seemed completely unfazed by what I had just done and my grasp upon him—as he had not hesitated in his walking in the slightest—caused me to stumble into his back, and therefore caused _him _to stumble forward as well.

"What the _hell _is your problem?!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, pulling himself free of my grasp and turning towards me, fire burning in the ocean of his eyes as he glared at me.

Okay, _now _I had his attention and I never felt so small in my entire life. My hand joined the other in grasping my backpack once more as I held it tightly to my chest, not unlike what a child would do with a stuffed animal when frightened. I hadn't been the center of someone's anger like this in a long time, and I was uncertain as to what to do. Was he at all capable of being lucid enough to listen to me? Did _I _have the courage to do what I came here to do?

"I…" I began in a quiet voice, my heart beating furiously in my chest. "…I would like to speak with you, Trunks Briefs—in private."

Trunks openly rolled his eyes at me. "If this is some _heart-felt confession_, I don't care and I don't have time for it."

Ugh, he was so completely full of himself! Still, I was determined to play nice with him, knowing I would have to if I wanted to get what I was seeking out of this. "It's not that. I need—um—information that I think only you or your father—or even your friends can give me."

An incredulous look appeared on his face as he listened to my words. "_Dad_? Are you some reporter or something?" he asked, though I could hear the doubt in his voice. He definitely did not believe me to be a reporter of any kind, but he wasn't yet able to determine who else I could be. I didn't doubt that reporters had bugged him about his family before, being that he was the richest heir on the planet.

"I'm not a reporter," I told him. "I'm just a person who's in a really bad situation and no one seems to know how to help me."

"Oh, you want _help_," Trunks sneered and shook his head at me. "Look, if you're getting bothered by someone, _go to the police_. That's what they're there for—you know—_to serve and protect_."

"No one is bothering me!" I insisted, unable to help the slight groan in my words. "Just listen to me for a second, okay? I have this...this _thing _I've been afflicted with for about five years now. I've hurt people without even knowing what I'm doing and I break things if my control even slips for a little bit—_and you acting the way you are is really pushing me to my very limits_—so I _need _to talk to someone who knows something about…energy."

Trunks arched a lavender eyebrow, seeming unconvinced of my words. His head slightly cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed, and I was almost certain that he believed I was some sort of liar or was crazy at the very least. His pink lips parted as if he was going to make some smart-ass remark, but nothing ever came. I noticed as his blue eyes widened just a bit, making the muscles on his face relax somewhat as he no longer looked as irritated as he did moments earlier. Then, his eyes narrowed again—but this time in confusion—as he leaned toward me especially close, invading a space that I didn't feel comfortable with him being in.

"What in the hell…" his words drifted off, sounding completely dumbfounded. His gaze left my eyes as he glanced over my body, not in the way that was at all salacious or creepy, but in a way similar to how one would inspect an object that they had never seen before in their lives. He was inquisitive, his head tilting from side to side with his nose wrinkled just slightly, and then his eyes widened more as a realization crossed over the features of his face.

"You're telling the _truth_…" he stated, pulling away from me and staring into my eyes in clear astonishment. "…Come with me."

x

To be continued!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** The characters of Sailor Moon and Dragon Ball Z are not mine, nor will they ever will be.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all who reviewed, I'll hopefully have semi-regular updates with this story so we shall see how much time I have! Enjoy!

**The Catalyst  
****Chapter Two**

I followed Trunks as he led me away from the front of the Business and Economics building and towards the campus parking lot, likely seeking refuge of a place that was away from unwanted eyes and ears. His sleek, expensive-looking black sports car stood out from the rest of the vehicles line up within the lot, its recent wax job reflecting the mid-morning sun just like an ebony mirror. He unlocked it by remote before instructing me to get inside so that we could talk more, and I obeyed him without a word. I slid into the front passenger seat of his car, the distinct smell of the newer vehicle consuming my senses immediately. I softly closed the door behind me after I settled into the seat as Trunks dropped himself into the driver's seat beside me before shutting his own door a bit more carelessly than I.

I introduced myself and began telling him my story. He listened attentively as I explained to him that I had been a normal human being prior to the age of twelve, but everything had changed after that _one visit _with my father. I told him that this power of mine was like living with a demon inside of my body that I constantly struggled with to keep under control, and I lived with an ever-present fear that I would one day kill someone due to my inability to further tame the beast inside of me. I expressed to him that I could feel that the power inside of me was growing stronger, that it was getting to a point that I knew containing it for much longer would probably be impossible. I also told Trunks how I had learned about him and his friends from the Cell Games, leading me to try to find a solution to my problem through him or whoever else would be able to help me.

Trunks remained silent as I spoke, and he never once even glanced towards me as I relayed my story to him. He just sat in his seat, his fingers sliding over the steering wheel as he stared off into the space in front of him. A few strands of his lavender hair danced just over his narrowed blue eyes, his brows drawn down slightly as his lips remained pressed in a tight thin line. The expressions of hatred and annoyance were no longer present on his face as they were now replaced by a look that I could not entirely read. I was sure that he was listening to me even though he did not acknowledge anything that I had said thus far, but I couldn't tell what he thought of it or what he thought of _me_.

My words eventually drifted off to quietness and I turned to fully look at the young man beside me, feeling uncertain and unnerved by his continued silence. Why was he saying _nothing_? I wondered if there was something I had mentioned that he did not appreciate and maybe he was regretting bringing me here. Was he mad that I had invaded his privacy by figuring out his connection to the Cell Games? I know I probably wouldn't have been too happy if someone had approached me from out of the blue after being researched on the internet.

This was a terrible idea. I was a fool.

Trunks's fingers slowly wrapped themselves around the steering wheel before he removed his hands from it completely, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest as he stared downward. "I don't understand…" he murmured, his voice quiet and confused.

I wanted him to look at me. I wanted him to elaborate more on what he was thinking. "Don't understand what?" I pressed, feeling a little bit relieved that he had finally found the words to speak.

I could see the hesitation on his face before he finally turned his head to me, his eyes sweeping over my body again before—at last—meeting my gaze. "It's so…_different. _I've never felt a power like this before."

Felt? He could _feel _it? "How is it different? How are you able to tell that it's different?"

With a small sigh, Trunks ran a hand through his hair and said, "Every living thing on this planet has energy; people, animals, and even plants. My friends and I, we've learned a technique that allows us to feel that energy—well, we call it _ki_—with our minds. While we can sometimes distinguish each other's individual energy signatures, mostly because we have a lot more of it than ordinary humans, it generally has the same feeling to it. _Your ki_, though, is so vastly different from any energy I've ever encountered. I didn't even notice it until you drew my attention to it, and even then I had to focus so incredibly hard on your energy to really understand what it was. It's almost like it's on a different frequency from everyone else's, and I don't understand how that's even possible. Now that I can sense it more clearly, it feels so raw, untamed, and—I'm not going to mince words with you—it feels pretty damn dangerous."

Oh great, so not only was I different from normal people, but I was also different amongst others who had higher than normal energy. I wondered if the danger in my power that he spoke of meant that I was truly a hopeless cause, that even someone knowledgeable about my affliction couldn't do much to help someone that was an enigma even to them. I could feel the beast inside of me chuckle a bit at my disappointment, pulling again at its shackles as it reminded me that it was still there and thoroughly enjoying this conversation so far.

"You said you weren't born like this?" Trunks asked.

I shook my head, depression surely visible on my face and speaking words filled with the tone of sadness, "Like I said, I was normal before all of _this_. My best guess is that my father did something to my body and that's why I'm the way I am now. I'd love to ask him what he did, but he's nowhere to be found."

"_That _could be part of the problem," Trunks stated, though he didn't sound entirely sure. "You see, I've only known a handful of ways that people are able to ascertain power on the level of yours. The human body is able to sustain only so much energy, and even through intense physical training, human beings' _ki _inevitably hits a cap that prevents them from getting any stronger. There are other people—people such as I—that are able to bypass that cap because we aren't fully human. My body can take a lot of abuse, so the sky is pretty much the limit when it comes to energy.

"And now we have you, who's an anomaly when it comes to this stuff," Trunks continued with a slight smirk on his lips. "You've not trained a day in your life and you weren't born with this energy; it's just there for whatever reason. Basically what I'm saying is you've skipped most of the necessary steps to get this type of power and—because of that—you don't have the slightest idea of how to handle it. When most fighters reach this level of _ki_, they generally have full control and understanding of it. You're completely clueless."

Thanks for stating the _obvious_, I thought with a roll of my eyes. "So what, then? Are you going somewhere with this or am I just wasting my time here?"

"Nah, you've come to the right place," Trunks informed me with a small snort of amusement. He grabbed on to his keys and slid it into the ignition of his car, turning it until the engine roared to life. "You're like a balloon that's at maximum air capacity and it's just a matter of time before you pop. So, the best solution for you is to let out some of that air in a controlled manner so that no one gets hurt."

What Trunks said made sense, but I didn't know how much that was going to help as that "air" had already been let out several times on accident and had done me absolutely no good. I opened my mouth to question his logic, but before I could even form the sounds of the first word I wanted to say, Trunks lowered his foot on to the gas and peeled out of the campus parking lot at a speed that I was certain was way above the legal parameters. He drove his expensive-looking vehicle through the downtown West City traffic, not sparing a visible care as other drivers honked at him either because of his dangerous speed or because he had noticeably broken some other traffic law. Fearing for my life, I grabbed the seatbelt and strapped myself in, sending a prayer to whatever higher power was listening that the both of us wouldn't end up in a morgue before the day was over with.

"Don't you think this is too fast?" I asked him with uneasiness in my voice, leaning my back up against the seat as far as it would allow me as I gripped on to the armrests until my knuckles appeared even whiter against my pale skin.

Trunks snorted, replying to me with a moody voice, "This isn't fast _enough_."

If I wasn't so terrified, I probably would have laughed at the audacity of his words. _Not fast enough? _Maybe Trunks was certifiably insane; after all, weren't most rich people considered eccentric at the very least? I stared out of the window beside me, watching as the world outside began to blur together with the ever increasing speed of the car. It was by some sort of miracle that we hadn't crashed into anything yet, I was sure, but what was even more astonishing was that Trunks seemed to be in perfect control over the car regardless of the speed he traveled at. He would dodge cars that would seemingly pull out of nowhere, moving his vehicle around them with unbelievable ease. He made turns that I was certain would normally be impossible to perform at this speed without an accident.

It then occurred to me that maybe his extreme control at these speeds weren't a matter of luck, and instead was just a matter of Trunks not being completely human. I wasn't exactly sure what he was capable of, but I knew just from this reckless car ride that his reaction times were far beyond normal. Trunks saw incoming cars long before I did and reacted to them instantaneously, and the entire time that he drove there was a bored and disinterested expression on his face. I began to think back to the words he had just said moments ago, and I found myself believing that maybe they weren't so ridiculous. Maybe this _wasn't _fast enough for him.

That begged the question; what _was _fast enough?

The towering skyscrapers and busy traffic of downtown were soon behind us, and our surroundings had become filled with more residential buildings and some of the greenery of nature. Trunks did not yield in his speed even in the slightest as we shot through this district as fast as the one before it, and as dwellings of all types began to become more occasional, we arrived at the outer limits of West City. We passed the massive sign that told us, "_You are Now Leaving West City, Hope to See You Soon!"_ and continued on the main highway for several more miles before Trunks abruptly turned the car on to a rough-looking two lane road that had various signs indicating that there was a park and national forest not far off in that direction.

I guess I probably should have been a bit fearful at this point, considering I was going out to a desolated area with a guy I had just met. It was this kind of scenario where a girl like me would likely end up dead, but I didn't believe for a moment that Trunks was bringing me out here to do anything like that to me. While I didn't know him, and while my initial impressions of him weren't all that great, I didn't think he was a bad guy. He seemed troubled, more troubled than me even, but that didn't necessarily mean he was an evil person. I had seen the crude side of humanity once before, and that had been enough for me to recognize when others had ill-intent for me.

Worst case scenario, I could always hope that my power would do as it always did and strike back if he tried to hurt me, but Trunks looked like he was physically much stronger than I and I didn't know how effective my powers would be on him being that he wasn't wholly human.

Trunks finally began to relent on the gas as the area around us began to fill up with more and more trees as we traveled further down the road. Eventually, both sides of the road became thick with nature's growth, making it feel as if we had entered a world that was entirely separate from artificial man-made one that we had left behind. He turned the car once again, traveling a few more miles down yet another poorly maintained road before pulling into a parking lot that was completely deserted of all other vehicles. There was absolutely no one else here except for Trunks Briefs and me.

Trunks removed his key from the ignition and abruptly got out of the car. I watched him walk away from his vehicle for only a few moments before I removed my seatbelt as well, stepping out of the car and shutting the door behind me. I half-ran to catch up with Trunks, filled with curiosity as to where we were going now. I followed the lavender-haired man off of the smooth pavement of the lot as we began traversing over the ankle-high grass and the uneven ground beneath it. Before long the grass began to stretch higher, soon reaching the tops of my knees and making walking through it without difficulty a near impossibility. I stumbled frequently, and I was no longer able to maintain a speed that even remotely kept up with Trunks as he began to put more and more distance between us.

Although I frequently felt like he was trying to leave me behind, Trunks would only get so far ahead of me before he would slow down or stop entirely, halfway turning towards me as he stared at me impatiently. I never quite caught up with him, because anytime I came within a few feet from him, he resumed his former hasty pace. He had gone back to being moody and silent, and I grumpily wondered if it would so much trouble to _pretend _to be nice. He had to of known that I wasn't comfortable with this situation at all and that I was having a hard time moving around, but it didn't seem like he cared. It was more than probable that he didn't.

After about a good twenty minutes of walking, we eventually reached the tree line of the forest and crossed into it. There was little grass growth under the canopy of leaves that blanketed the sky above us which made walking on the ground easier, but now we were weaving our bodies through trees of all shapes and sizes as well as trying to dodge low-hanging branches. On occasion there would be a random root that had grown itself out of the ground, providing an excellent obstruction to catch my foot on and nearly causing me to stumble to my hands and knees several times. I was pretty happy that I didn't actually fall once, but I was sure I looked anything but elegant. Trunks, meanwhile, seemed as unfazed by our surroundings as ever, expertly avoiding everything that I managed to trip on.

Finally, we reached a point where the trees briefly parted around what looked to be a narrow part of the river that stretched through the forest. At first I wondered if he was going to make me cross it; although it was small, it was still a bit too wide for me to move over it without getting at least a little bit wet. However, Trunks finally came to a stop and turned to me, folding his arms over his chest and looking at me expectantly.

"Release it here," he commanded in a voice that wasn't to be argued with.

"_Here_?" I asked breathlessly, glancing around at the area around us. I was still panting from our lengthy walk, pressing my hands against the tops of my knees as I leaned over, gasping for breath.

"We're far enough away from the popular trails for you to release your energy without someone noticing," Trunks explained in an annoyed tone. "If you release a bunch of energy here, it should make you feel like you're in a bit more control when you go back home—at least for a little while."

As my breathing normalized, I stood straight and took another hard look around at my surroundings. I wondered how far away we really were from other people; we had traveled such a long way on foot and even further in the car, after all. Certainly, if my power was released here, the risk of harm coming to anyone was minimal at the very best. Trunks seemed to know a bit of what he was talking about, so I trusted his assessment that maybe this _could _help me. Perhaps releasing my power in a controlled manner instead of it seeping out whenever I couldn't control it would be the best, if not the only, solution to my problem?

Yet, there was one _tiny _issue to be had with Trunks's idea. I turned to him, folding my hands behind me nervously as I looked down to the ground in front of my feet. "…So, how do I do it?"

A dumbfounded look appeared on Trunks's face almost immediately. "_How_? For the love of…" he shook his head before glaring at me angrily, his tone turning to severe annoyance. "_Just let it go!_ Do you even know how much _ki _you've got built up inside of you?! I'm surprised you didn't let any of it out while you were tripping all over yourself out in the woods!"

I didn't appreciate his tone with me. Not. At. All. "I've never done it on purpose before!" I nearly shouted at him, stomping one of my feet against the ground like some angry child. There was plenty else that I wanted to yell at him for, such as his god-awful attitude and how it would have been so lucky to have such privileges in life, but I kept mute on that and other matters. "I'm always so concerned with keeping this power locked up inside of me that I've never even considered _trying _to use it!"

"I can't believe this," Trunks muttered as he placed a hand against his forehead, releasing a frustrated groan. Honestly, I don't know what he was expecting of me. I had _told _him that I didn't have any idea what this power was, so I would have thought he had assumed that I hadn't the slightest clue of how to use it. I understood that he had literally grown up around _ki _and using it was probably as easy as breathing for him, but I hadn't had the same luxury. I didn't have teachers or parents that could tell me what this was inside of me; all I had was the wonderful internet and half of the articles telling me that I was some spawn of the devil.

"Okay, whatever, _I'll teach you_," Trunks sighed in exasperation as he lowered his hand from his face to look at me again, still not looking very pleased with me. "First thing I want you to do is put your hands in front of you like you're holding on to an imaginary basketball."

Even though the request sounded a little ridiculous, I just nodded and did as he told me to, awkwardly bringing my hands in front of me and pretending that I was holding on to a circular ball of some sort. I looked up at him, waiting for his next command with quiet uncertainty.

"Now visualize your energy," Trunks told me. I must have given him some look that mirrored the confusion that I felt, because he sighed again and explained further, "Just _stare _in-between your hands and flow your energy into the center. Picture it in whatever way that helps, maybe something girly like a butterfly if that helps, and just try putting your energy into it."

"Oh-kay…" I murmured, greatly enunciating the two syllables. I focused my stare at the center of my hands, my eyes narrowing as I tried to untie the bounds of my control and let it my energy out. I didn't know what to imagine that would make it come out easier, so I just pretended that there was a ball in the center of my hands that needed to be filled up with my power. For several moments I stood there, doing nothing but staring and _trying _to make my energy appear. Apparently, my _ki _did not want to make a voluntary appearance.

"You're trying to force it," Trunks stated in a grumble. He suddenly brought his hands in front of himself, mirroring the same pose that I had but with much more comfort and familiarity. "This is how you do it."

Instantaneously and with no effort applied at all, a baseball-sized orb of energy with a blue tint formed within Trunks's hands. I could hear the gentle hum of the _ki _as it hovered in the space between Trunks's hands, and even though its light was very bright, I could stare at the core of it without needing to shield my eyes. _That _was Trunks's _ki_? It did not seem at all as frightening as I thought it would, and it didn't seem like the weapon I had seen the golden-haired fighter use against Cell back in the videos of the Games. It just seemed like a gentle light, a small glimpse into the type of power that Trunks had concealed within him.

It was beautiful.

The light of the energy ball soon dimmed before it faded completely, and Trunks dropped his arms to his sides and stared at me with a waiting look. "Just let it flow out of you. You have all of this power already, so all you really need to do is let the dam break and set it free."

Okay, set it free—as scary as it sounded, I was determined to do it. I stared back to the area in-between my hands once more, focusing again, bidding my energy to flow out and into my awaiting hands. Instead of imagining it as simply as a ball, I altered my vision and began to picture my energy as softly floating tendrils. In my mind the tendrils were reaching towards the center of my hands, gathering together to form a collection of energy similar to what Trunks had just shown me. It wouldn't be scary, I told myself. It was just energy—it was just _my _energy. For the first time in the past five years, I was hoping that my energy would show up; I wanted to meet it and see if it was as breathtaking as Trunks's own light.

A small crack of violet electricity appeared, wrapping around my hands and fingers before reaching towards the center that I focused on. Moments later, a purple orb that was no larger than a size of a marble flashed into existence within the formally empty space between my hands, and _it scared the living daylights out of me_. I jumped back, yanking my hands towards my chest as if I had just touched something that was blazing hot and watched as the small ball of energy slowly fell to the ground.

"_Idiot!" _I heard Trunks bark at me. Within half a second he had moved from where he once was and was at my side, his arms wrapping around my body and quickly carrying me away. Seconds later, there was an explosion that was nearly deafening and my hands reached up to protect my ears from the sound several seconds too late. A sudden wind picked up, blowing a cloud of dust and dirt into the air and spreading it all around us. As the particles of earth entered our lungs, both Trunks and I began to cough uncontrollably, and I had to shut my eyes as they began to water from the invasion of more small specs that had been kicked up from my carelessness.

After the cloud passed and the wind faded, I dared to open my eyes to see what exactly had just happened. We were now a good fifty feet or more away from where we original stood, and in the area where we had originally been was now a freshly made crater that was about ten feet wide and three feet deep. The leaves in the trees all around us still were shaking from the force of the explosion, and the air around us was still somewhat darkened from the dust and dirt that continued to linger.

I had known for years that my power was capable of doing some pretty nasty things, though looking at that crater and knowing that was from just a small fraction of my energy, I felt even more frightened of myself than I had been before. I knew absolutely nothing about energy, and even though Trunks had seemed resigned to only telling me what I needed to know and next to nothing about the full proficiencies of _ki_, I had a sinking feeling that this type of damage from such a small amount of energy couldn't be normal—well, in whatever normal parameters there were with _ki_. I had every bit of respect of how damaging my powers could be, but today was the first time that I really _knew _that someone could literally die from any carelessness on my part.

I _was _a walking time bomb.

"You—you _have _to be careful!" Trunks growled at me in a low voice, and I could tell without even looking at his face that he was beyond angry with me. I couldn't exactly blame him; I could have done some serious damage to the both of us if not killed us outright. He removed his grasp upon my body and took a step away from me, and I could feel his infuriated gaze upon me. "Understand what you're capable of before you do _anything_."

"I _do_ understand," I weakly protested, still afraid to turn my head and meet his gaze. I knew that I had screwed up and Trunks was the reason why we both weren't likely dead by now.

"You're going to do this again, and this time, _don't drop it_. If you do, I'm just going to leave you out here and you can find your own way back to West City."

As much as I wanted to believe that Trunks was just trying to scare me so that I wouldn't mess up like that ever again, I didn't doubt that he probably would leave me out here. He really didn't give a damn about me in the first place, so if I seemed to be a lost cause—a waste of his time—there would be no reason to bother with me any longer. At the same time, I wondered if his anger was the result of having been as frightened and taken aback as I was, but I wasn't about to ask him about his true feelings on the subject. He would probably just bite my head off again.

"I'm sorry," I apologized in a quiet voice before repeating my stance from earlier. I took a deep breath and tried to calm my jump nerves, and then tried to summon my power once again. My power seeped out of me more easily this time, gathering up in the center of my slightly trembling but waiting hands. The entire time I did nothing more than repeat in my mind _"Do not drop the damned thing again!"_ as I didn't want to put either of us in the ground or get chastised like a child once more by the angry man next to me. I really wanted to prove to Trunks that I could do this, that I wasn't a lost cause worth abandoning out in the middle of nowhere.

I had stopped the flow of my energy once my _ki_ ballonce was no larger than the size of a pea. Although the power which remained inside of me was no longer pushing so hard against my control, I knew that between the _ki _I had dropped earlier and the tiny orb within my hands, this was not going to be nearly enough to sate the beast. I was just too damn scared to make it any larger than that, fearing another repeat scenario of what happened earlier. I figured baby steps were better than nothing, and certainly better than making more mistakes.

Trunks noticed that I had stopped growing my _ki _immediately, his senses likely tipping him off that I was beginning to hold back. "You're going to make it bigger than that," he told me in a firm voice, though his anger seemed to have dissipated slightly. "The point of this is to deplete enough of your _ki _so you don't feel so full of power anymore."

_You can do this_, I told myself as I began to open the gates of my power once more and allow more of it to flow in the floating orb within my hands. As the orb received more of my _ki_, a nucleus appeared in the center of it with the color of a violet so dark that it almost looked black. A hue many shades closer to a truer violet surrounded the nucleus like an aura, encompassing it as purple electricity crackled all around it. The heat of the orb against my skin was beginning to teeter on the borderline of painful, so I moved my hands out ever so slightly to allow the orb more room to grow. I continued to remain vigilant and careful, determined not to drop this orb _no matter what_.

I began to feel lighter than I had moments ago as the weight of my energy finally began to ease up on me. I felt like I could _breathe_, the presence of my overwhelming energy no longer pressing against the deteriorated walls of my control. It was almost exactly like Trunks said; I didn't feel so full of power anymore, and there was finally room for me to do something more than worry about constantly maintaining my control. Even though my tension had eased only somewhat, it was such a different feeling—a _good _different—that it caused a small smile to tug at the corner of my lips.

I looked over to my moody teacher, not bothering to conceal from him my relief. "I feel okay now. So, what do we do with this?" I asked him, jerking my head towards the direction of the now golf-ball sized orb within my hands.

"It needs to be detonated—_safely_," Trunks told me, quickly adding on the last word with a slight glare directed towards me. He then glanced about the area, explaining, "Normally when wedon't need to use our powers, we just take the energy back into ourselves. Though, I think that would be a bit counterproductive in your case."

The thought of detonating my orb reignited my feelings of fear towards my power, casting a weary look towards the center of my hands. This orb was much larger than the last, so I wondered _how _we were going to pull off getting rid of my _ki _without leveling the entire forest. I remained hopeful that Trunks would come up with something that wouldn't result in widespread devastation as he seemed to have a bit more expertise in this field than I. There were no helpful suggestions that I could offer him without being scoffed at due to my ignorance of the subject, so I remained silent and let Mr. Moody Heir do all of the thinking.

"Okay, I have an idea," Trunks suddenly announced as he walked behind me until he was completely out of my line of vision, leaving me with just the sound of my humming orb and his swift steps. I could feel him lingering behind me, and not knowing what he was planning as he was standing back there was making it difficult for me to concentrate on holding my ki in place. As if sensing my uncertainty, Trunks offered a quick and stern reminder, "_Don't _drop it. You _will _blow this place to kingdom come if you do."

Then, I felt one of Trunks's arms snake around my waist and lock around it tightly, and my entire body tensed up in response to his touch. While he had held on to me earlier as he got us both out of imminent danger, this time was different in that I actually had time to register in my mind that Trunks was _touching_ me. Physical touch was something that I had strayed away from since I was twelve, mostly out of fear of what I could do than what others could do to me, and even my own mother rarely touched me knowing that it was something I was no longer comfortable with. I had to bite down on the urge that I felt to instinctively move away from the close proximity of this man, reminding myself that there was an object akin to a bomb floating in my hands and I could endure his body touching mine for as long as was necessary.

Moments later, I felt the ground fall away from my feet and glanced down to notice that we were _rising up into the air _at a fast and steady speed. I had known flight to be one of the abilities of the fighters involved with the Cell Games, but I hadn't even entertained the notion that Trunks could probably do it as well. I felt uneasy and uncomfortable as we rose higher into the air, knowing that someone I barely knew and hardly trusted was the only thing preventing me from plummeting back to the earth and to a certain death. Still, I felt in awe that it was within the realm of possibility that people could actually _fly_, and the wonder of this amazing ability left me more breathless than the anxiety I felt before. Furthermore, being able to look down on to the forest canopy was a sight that I would never forget; it was as if a sea of various shades of green and browns and every other earthy tone was stretched out underneath us.

We stopped elevating into the air, and now the two of us simply hovered within the sky. The air was degrees cooler up here than it was on the ground, causing a chill to attack my legs from the knees downward. Even though I had my destructive little orb floating around in my hands, was fighting the discomfort of being held on to Trunks, and I was quickly becoming cold, I still couldn't get over how amazing and beautiful the sights below and around me were. If this was the last time that I would ever experience anything like this—and I was certain that it would be—I wanted to commit it to memory as one of the very few happy moments I had experienced in recent years.

"You can drop it," Trunks told me suddenly, causing me to snap out of my reverie and glance back to him in utter surprise at his command.

"But you told me _not _to drop it!" I tried to reason, not entirely understand where this sudden change in heart came from. Did he want me to really blow up the whole forest? I thought the whole point of whatever idea it was that he had yet to confide in me was _not _to cause any more devastating explosions!

Trunks sighed and rolled his eyes at me. "_Trust _me. Just let it go, and I'll do the rest."

I hesitate, glancing between my orb and Trunks, waiting to see if the lavender-haired man would eventually change his mind and tell me what he was _really _planning. When he continued to just stare expectantly at me, and it became obvious he was starting to lose his patience with my reluctance, I sent a small prayer to the heavens above and pulled my hands apart, letting my dangerous little ball descend towards the forest far below us.

I felt Trunks adjust himself behind me and soon I saw him extend out a single hand, his fingers pressed together and their tips pointed up to the sky. In front of the palm of his hand a blue _ki _ball about the size of a softball materialized, and half a second later, it shot from his hand and sped towards the orb I had dropped only moments earlier. Trunks's _ki _collided with my own in a massive explosion that lit up the sky so brightly that it was blinding, and the force of the blast caused us to be blown back into the air. Trunks maintained control quickly enough, wrapping his other arm around my body to make certain that I didn't drop and soon balanced us again in the air.

Once the bright light faded, it allowed us to see what little destruction was caused to the ground from the aerial explosion. Several trees located directly under the blast had been knocked to the ground, and for miles around the leaves of the forest's canopy waved and hissed in response to the force of the explosion. I was sure that the blast was loud enough to be heard from a distance, so I hoped that anyone who heard it would just disregard it as a sonic boom or something of the like. Being that it was a largely cloudless day, we couldn't exactly blame the sound on a roaming storm.

Trunks remained in the sky for a short time later before taking us both back towards the direction of where he parked his car.

X

Too soon did the familiar sights of my neighborhood come into view, and I suddenly felt reluctant to return back to a life that now felt so different from who I was now. I had an understanding about myself that I didn't have before, and while so many questions remained in regards to how I got this power and why, I knew that there was a way that it could be maintained and eventually controlled. I felt uplifted and optimistic for once, but I knew that everything that had happened today had to be kept a secret from Mom. She wouldn't like the fact that I was using this power willingly no matter the reason for it, and I didn't doubt that she would likely freak out if she had known I had spent the last few hours with a boy that I really didn't know.

Mom could never know about today, which meant I had to continue going to those meaningless doctor's appointments and pretend that I didn't already have a solution.

Trunks and I really didn't speak on our way back to West City, but I was relieved to see that he seemed to have a newfound respect of traffic laws on our way back to the city. He only sped a few miles over the speed limit instead of driving like a maniac as he did earlier, allowing me to think about whatever else I wanted to and not just his insane driving. He had turned on his radio shortly after we began our trip back home, his speakers blaring alternative rock at a volume that I didn't exactly care for. Still, it _was _his car and I guess he had done me an extreme favor today, so I was determined to not complain about it.

I noticed that Trunks's moodiness had made a triumphant return as he wore an expression on his face that made me believe that he was far less enthusiastic in returning home than I was. I was a little surprised when he soon turned down the radio and asked for directions to where I lived, as I had expected him to take us back to his campus where I would walk home from there. I decided not to be difficult in this respect, being that my legs were still aching from our trek through the forest earlier, and softly gave him the directions of how to get to my apartment. Admittedly, I felt a little uncertain as Trunks would now know where I lived, but I figured that after today he would no longer be bothered with my existence and go back to whatever troubles his privileged life could offer him. For reasons that I could not understand, I felt a little sad knowing that this would probably be the last time that I would see Trunks Briefs.

_He's spoiled and his attitude is awful_, I reminded myself. It was no great loss for me if this was the last time I ever saw him…right? I mean, he had taught me a bit about _ki _and how to handle whenever I became too full of it, but did I really want to put up with Trunks and his royal moodiness for much more than part of the morning and afternoon? I guess I felt reluctant to part with him because that meant I would be, once again, alone with this power and needing to deal with it. It felt nice that, even for a few hours, I was in the presence of someone who understood what not being normal meant.

Trunks soon arrived at my apartment building, sliding his expensive car into a vacant spot in front of the complex before shifting the gear into park. We both sat there for a time longer than was necessary, Trunks sitting silently in his seat as he stared directly in front of him while I drummed my fingers nervously against my thighs, only daring to stare at him out of the corner of my eye. I wondered if he just expected me to get out. I should thank him, I thought, express my appreciation that he _did _take time out of his day to help me out. I probably should tell him that I wasn't going to spread the word that Trunks Briefs was a superhuman that could fly and make balls of energy—not that anyone would believe me, anyway.

"Thanks for-"

"Hotaru, I-"

We had both started speaking at the same time, and when we both effectively cut each other off, we simply sat there and stared at each other. His lavender brows were furrowed ever so slightly over his blue eyes, but he didn't seem mad like he so soften appeared today. Instead he seemed…unsure? That had to be it, though I wasn't sure why. Maybe he _was _concerned that I had a big mouth and was going to start spreading around a bunch of rumors about the world's most rich and famous heir? Or maybe it was something else; I honestly didn't know. He was so freaking hard to read.

"I won't say anything about today to anyone," I assured him, keeping his gaze for only a second before dropping my stare down towards my lap. "I don't really talk to anyone besides Mom, and like I told you before, she likes to pretend that this energy-thing is no different than a disease that can be cured. Telling her about today would just upset her, and she's better off not knowing that I blew a crater into a ground and created a huge explosion in the sky."

"Oh, not going to tell her about flying around with some strange guy, either?" Trunks jested, amusement thick in his voice. The fact that he was cracking some sort of joke made me smile ever slightly.

"No, not going to tell her that either," I responded with a slight laugh in my voice, daring to look back up to him again. One of his lavender brows were arched upward and I could _see _the amusement glimmering in his eyes. It was nice to see another side of Trunks than his god-awful attitude; it made him seem more personable, making me feel a little bit more uncomfortable in his presence. How unfortunate it was that this was probably the last time I would ever see him.

Trunks nodded slightly, pressing his back against his seat and looking away from me once more. "…Hotaru, this is by no means a permanent fix. What energy you expended today _is _going to come back, and judging by what you've told me, it'll probably return with the same strength if not more than that."

I wasn't surprised by his words, having had the feeling that today wasn't going to be the end of my problems with my energy. "What should I do then?" I asked him.

"Ideally, learn to control the power itself instead of trying to keep it contained. I would say take up some martial arts classes or something, but…" his words trailed off and he gave me a knowing look.

"Yeah, I'm not a fighter," I acknowledged. "I would probably make more of a fool myself learning to fight than what I did today."

Trunks was quiet for a few seconds before saying in a very soft voice, "You didn't do that badly today."

I really didn't know what to say to that. Was he actually giving me a compliment? I couldn't for the life of me understand _why_; I had messed up royally once, and he had been the one to bail me out. All I had done was follow his instructions as he gave them to me, but I had nearly killed us both by making that one stupid mistake. Perhaps I was being too hard on myself for it, but I had sought Trunks out to _prevent _killing someone and I ended up almost doing that anyway. The fact that Trunks was apparently trying to be _nice _to me was a little disturbing and completely opposite to the snobbish person I had already pegged him as, and it was making me feel a little uncomfortable.

People being nice to me when they normally shouldn't be—that had gotten me into a hairy situation before.

"I should go," I announced suddenly, unbuckling my seatbelt and opening the door, stepping out of his all too expensive-looking vehicle. His attitude change had spiked my anxiety terribly, memories of the time I had nearly been burned as a witch and nearly killing a group of girls pushing to the forefront of my mind. Deep down I knew that my sudden fear was entirely misguided, knowing that if Trunks wanted to hurt me then he wouldn't have helped me as much as he had, terror rarely gives way to logic or reason. All I could think of was to _get away _before something bad happened, and I promptly shut the door to Trunks's car and flee into the entrance of my apartment building before he could say anything more.

I realized much later that I never even properly thanked him.

To be continued…


End file.
